


Save one, get one free

by WhisperingDarkness



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies)
Genre: But still badass in his own way, But still porn with plot, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, I Don't Even Know, If I actually get to the porn part instead of this all dissolving in a big ball of fluff, M/M, Misunderstandings, Multi, Plot is a bit makeshift, Praise Kink, Q is not in MI6, Q is the best hacker, Q's a bit intimidated by it all, Secret agents are ridiculous human beings, The agents are appropriately impressed, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-01-29 09:48:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12628308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingDarkness/pseuds/WhisperingDarkness
Summary: His mission was clear and the stakes were high. 007 was a professional, he would find the hacker and persuade the man to help them. And, hopefully, he would even manage to do so before their time ran out.What he hadn't counted on was the ship going down.And, of course, he hadn't quite counted on Q either.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [When the Sky Falls](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2450675) by [ginnyvos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ginnyvos/pseuds/ginnyvos), [Only_1_Truth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Only_1_Truth/pseuds/Only_1_Truth). 



> **A.N.** I feel like I should put a warning right here on top that I am straying into unfamiliar territory here. Because yes, my brain was once again taken over by an unfamiliar fandom (as it does) and now I'm actually trying to write slashy stuff. With the sex and everything. I feel ridiculous and a little bit proud for trying out new things. 
> 
> Of course, this is still as fluffy as anything I write. And I must also warn you that the plot is a bit make-piece and not fully worked out... I can never focus on a story long enough to write a full-fledged one and while this somehow evolved from a one-shot it's rather unpolished/incomplete in the finer details. Mostly it's 'something like this happened' and then they had sex.
> 
> I debated making another account to keep this from contaminating my readership but that seemed… too much? So consider this a warning to readers looking for my usual thing. RUN AWAY.
> 
> Also, as I post this the story is still somewhat unfinished. Especially with the sex scene I'm trying to built up to. How do people even _write_ smutty stuff? You need to keep track of where everyone is and what they are doing and write descriptive touching without sounding ridiculous and wow is that harder than I thought. From what I've got so far I've ended up repeating the same words a lot. First attempt, though, so... yeah. 
> 
> It’s also a little (a lot) embarrassing to share despite the fact that this is the internet and anonymous.
> 
> I’m now far more impressed by those who write and post actual good um... sex stories.
> 
> Be nice? Or, you know, not too mean? Otherwise I’ll probably delete this and pretend _it didn’t happen_.

He’d been downstairs in the kitchen of his temporary apartment making soup of all things when a loud crash made him turn around. Wooden spoon still in hand, he instinctively turned around to the source of the sound.

The door was wide open, kicked in, and a hulking figure made its way through it.

Before Q had even completely registered his presence, a muscled man was right in front of him – and his own body moved – _was moved_ – as easily as if he weighted nothing at all. Heavy hands dragged him forward and then roughly pushed him back against the wall.

The wooden spoon fell to the floor with a soft clatter.

Only then, when he was already trapped, did his survival instinct finally kick in – fiercely. 

Q fought, twisting around like an animal in a trap, pure instinct driving him to fight with every inch of his being to _get loose_. All in vain, because the man’s hold was impossible to break free from. 

Vaguely he was aware that his assailant was speaking to him in a deep, guttural tone of voice that promised violence but he couldn’t focus enough to understand the words, let alone form some sort of reply. Instead it seemed like his racing heartbeat and the immovable rough hands were all he could fully register.

Then a strong forearm pressed against his neck and Q’s struggles increased, his desperate hands clawing at the vice-like grip. The arm only pressed harder, making it difficult to _breathe_ and, terrified and trapped, he finally stilled completely, staring back limply at the blond man keeping him in place. 

Q was practically frozen in fear, gasping for whatever oxygen he could steal away. A few moments passed and slowly his brain started registering other facts. Such as the fact that the man was speaking to him in a low voice, in a foreign language – Russian perhaps?

He couldn’t understand a single word, of course, but despite the almost seductive tone, Q was certain that his assailant wasn’t whispering sweet nothings in his ears.

Especially not since the man had a gun pointed _right at him_.

Then, finally, the man finished his threatening monologue and switched to English. “So, tell me. Where is he?”

Those were the first words he understood but he was too dazed to actually realise what this stranger wanted.

“Who?” he croaked out, with practically all of his attention still focussed on the gun.

“You don’t want to play with me, little kitten, it won’t end well. _Tell me where he is_ \- and you _might_ just live.”

The only other person here was James. James, who was hurt and vulnerable upstairs in bed. James, who had a _gun_ \- who had a job he was almost certainly lying about, but who had been kind and personable and after going through all this trouble to _save_ the man he couldn’t…

Weakly he started struggling again as his fear abruptly changed direction. Because suddenly the slight hacker was less afraid for himself and more afraid for James – and what this intruder wanted to do with him. It’s as if he only had a finite amount of fear to go around. His focus shifted, in a way that _made no sense_ because he barely knew the man that was upstairs in his bed but that didn’t change how he felt. 

“Don’t know,” he tried, but he wasn’t exactly a skilled liar. 

He didn’t realise that his eyes had involuntarily strayed towards the stairs until he noticed his assailant glancing the same way. 

Mentally, Q cursed himself out for being all sorts of an idiot. 

The large brute raised a sardonic eyebrow at him. “Looks like we’re going upstairs.”

He was effortlessly dragged up the stairs, one large hand encircling the back of his neck as if Q was nothing more than a limp doll. In the other hand the man was still holding his gun – the gun he had threatened Q with, the gun that he was probably planning on using on _James_.

Q wasn’t particularly tough, nor did he carry any conventional weapons. Not that man had even bothered to pat him down, which meant that he still had his electronics on him. And while this was just supposed to be a temporary place for him, he always set up at least a _few_ defences. So if he could just reach his mobile-

He swallowed back a cry of relief when his hand found the familiar device. It was locked with a fingerprint scanner, so he only had to press his thumb to the screen to open it. He couldn’t move his head enough to look at it, but that was alright because it should be unlocked and if it was unlocked then it was _active_ – all he had to do was _wait_ for the right moment, just a little longer…

“Safe room,” he spoke as clearly as he could around his aching throat. 

The system responded to his voice command, the sliding wall on the right slamming against the intruder’s side. And Q used all of his strength to twist himself loose and scrambled forward as fast as he could - ducking inside the walls that would seal off the upper floor. He turned around, hurrying backwards, away from the danger and towards the room James was in, and saw that the larger man had managed to dive through the sliding walls as well despite having been caught off guard by them. 

They were both locked in upstairs. Q had cut off his own only real escape route.

Fine, that was fine, because the man was on a different floor tile than Q and that meant- “Activate Spark A3,” he commanded, his voice sounding strange to his own ears. 

The man went down. 

Theoretically the electric current should down a person for ten to twenty minutes, paralyzing him, but it’s not like Q had ever needed to test it out in truth. Still, the man was down and, from the grunting noises he was making, still alive so _something_ was going right at least.

His eyes tracked down the gun that the intruder had dropped and Q inched forward, a wary eye on the dangerous blond. He bridged the last few inches between himself and the gun with a fast grab, darting back as quickly as he could.

The gun was cold in his hand and heavier then he thought it would be. He swallowed to wet his dry throat and when the man twitched, lifted his head and _snarled_ at him, Q quickly backed away to James’ door. Because James would know what to do, James carried a gun and had a job he lied about and apparently had some sort of _assassin_ out to kill him and he would _know_ what to do with all of this. 

He _had_ to know what to do with all of this, because Q was really, really, not cut out for any of this.

With one shaking hand grasping for the door handle behind him, he managed to push the door open without looking away from where he was pointing the gun. He stepped back into the door opening, eyes and gun never moving away from the dangerous man who had regained his feet and was slowly moving towards Q like a stalking predator. 

Rather alarmingly, the other man was acting as if the gun that Q was pointing at him was as harmless as a plush toy.

“Stay back!” Q’s voice came out more loudly than he had meant it to, and he hoped he didn’t sound as scared as he felt.

The intruder’s eyes were narrowed and dark with the threat of violence – and the man took another step forward despite Q’s warning. And then, as if a switch was flicked, his features smoothed out, the savageness melting away from his face as if it had never been there.

“Q,” came a welcome voice close behind him and despite the fact that James’ presence didn’t actually resolve the situation _at all_ , he immediately felt better. 

“James,” he responded without turning around, “…this man was asking about you.” And he was supposed to sound _brave_ , because here he was defending the man – who was practically still a stranger - from some sort of dangerous _assassin_ , but somehow that wasn’t what he sounded like _at all_. His voice was a tiny, wavering thing – not unlike his hands that were shaking, the small tremors leaking through to the gun in his hand. 

“He had a gun,” Q managed to add, deliberately clenching his teeth and pushing his chin up, determined to see this through. He wouldn’t fall apart here, not now. Because he’d saved James and that somehow made him Q’s responsibility, _his_ to protect and he would damn well _do_ that – even if armed men weren’t exactly something he’d considered as a possibility when he had somehow, at some point, made that choice.

He picked up the sound of movement behind him and a moment later he felt James’ warmth press against his back. The man was a solid presence and Q was illogically certain that if he leaned back the other man wouldn’t let him fall, would hold up his weight despite his injuries. 

“Are you protecting me, Q?” James asked and that was strange – not the question exactly, but the tone of it, wondering and terribly soft.

Through all of this, the previously armed intruder was just standing there, patiently waiting in a way that didn’t _make sense_ because the gun hadn’t seemed like much of threat to the man just moments ago.

Was it James’ presence that made the difference? But there was nothing about the intruder that showed any hint of trepidation – instead the man looked casual, unthreatening and that just didn’t compute because there was nothing _unthreatening_ about the large brute and Q’s throat was still throbbing in pain and his shoulders were probably bruised and he was shaking all over and why wasn’t anyone _doing_ anything-

“Hey,” James said, “I’ve got you.” The warmth in the other man’s voice was entirely out of place in this scenario. For a moment Q even wondered if he was dreaming, but the pain he still felt was real, as was the foreign weight of the gun - not to mention the fact that his assailant was still right there.

Q realised that he was on the edge of panicking completely and when that thought hit him a small part of him noted that yes that made sense, because he had every reason to panic right now. 

But then James’ arm slowly came up around him, warm and solid, gathering Q into a careful hold. The man's other hand hovered next to his own – the one holding the gun – for a few heartbeats before it finally touched him carefully on the wrist. “Why don’t you give that to me? I’ve got it now, alright?”

The other man’s voice was calm and kind and immensely reassuring. And that was it – that was enough. Q exhaled and slumped, blinking away something that might have been the beginning of tears. He let the other man take his weight and the gun and the whole damn situation.

And he’d been _right_ , because James held him up without any problems, as if he’d never been hurt and almost drowned. As if it was nothing at all.

Q breathed, in and out, trying to stop himself from shaking, or crying or anything as foolish as that.

“Are you alright? Did Alec hurt you?” James asked him.

He blinked. What? Did Alec... Alec? Did James _know_ the assassin? Yes, the man had hurt him - had pointed his gun at him and were they _not_ still in danger? Because that man was very, _very_ dangerous. 

Admittedly, his attempt to put all of that into words failed terribly. Q was usually highly capable of constructing full sentences, but nothing about these past few days had been normal in any way and he’d just been attacked by an armed man, so he wasn’t even embarrassed by the fact that all he could reasonably manage was; “He – I – are you? _Danger_?”

A warm hand stroked gently over his back, and James turned him around as if he was something breakable and pulled him in closer. “No more danger,” the man assured him and the shaking hacker let out a deep breath and turned his face into the other man’s chest. 

His mind was struggling to make sense of the situation but the unexpected violence and the professed safety that was just as sudden made it difficult to come to terms with what was happening.

But the scent Q breathed in was already familiar – already illogically categorized in his brain as something that was good and solid and _his_.

It signified to him that _yes_ , the danger was over.

Which apparently meant that now was a good time to fall apart.


	2. Chapter 2

“He – I – are you? Danger?”

Unbidden, his lips twisted up into a smile, his eyes softening with it. He gathered the confused, frightened mess of a man into his arms and ran his hands slowly over his back in a gesture he hoped was comforting.

The hacker he’d been sent to find was, perhaps, the most surprising target he’d ever come across. It wasn’t often in his line of work that he came across true innocents and the little computer geek definitely fell into that category. The slight man had gone out of his way to save a near stranger from a sinking ship and, for some reason James couldn’t even fathom, Q had put his trust in him despite the gun and the lies.

More than that, the young man – who looked like he’d fall apart if you shook him too hard – had gone out of his way to _protect him_. Bond couldn’t even remember the last time that had happened. _Had_ that ever happened? Had someone ever stepped in front of him, between him and a presumed threat?

It sounded bizarre even in his own head.

He looked up at Alec, mostly to check that he wasn’t hallucinating or something. He _had_ hit his head rather hard during the chaos on the ship, but that was nothing new and shouldn’t be causing anything more than a headache. 

The other agent met his eyes, smirking back at him. “He’s adorable,” his friend mouthed to him and then cautiously moved in closer to reclaim his gun.

Q whimpered a little at the other man’s nearness, one of his hands coming up to clutch at James’ shirt and the battle-worn agent felt himself melt a little further. 

He nodded to Alec, yes, his hacker was utterly charming – even more so for the fact that he was clearly not playing any game. No manipulation, seduction or any of the many things Bond had gotten used to. Q was young, too young and innocent to be ruined by the likes of him – not someone who deserved to have a double-oh agent sent after him. Let alone the two of them.

Because this was, apparently, the type of man who would save a stranger from a sinking ship just because 007 had smiled at his target and exchanged a few polite words to feel him out.

It was refreshing. And perhaps a little humbling. 

Perhaps that was the reason he hadn’t pressed his mission yet. Of course, the fact that he was wounded and not in optimal shape for chasing after the skittish man was also a factor, but he could admit to himself that he hadn’t wanted to take that ridiculously naïve trust that Q had given him and break it like he broke everything.

But now the secret was out anyway – Alec was here, they had their hacker and together they could keep him secure easily enough. Although… “How did he even get a hold of your gun?”

Alec shook his head with an unrepentant smirk, apparently unashamed at being disarmed by a thin, harmless looking boffin. “He turned the goddamn house against me – I wasn’t expecting the attacking wall. Or being electrocuted by the floor,” he explained with rueful amusement. Then his friend stared down at the hacker who was hiding his face in James’ chest. “I’ll know better next time.”

Was that _lust_ in his partner’s voice? He glanced up, seeing dark eyes fixed on the sweet bundle in his arms and realised that _yes_ , Alec wanted Q just as badly as James did. 

If it wasn’t for this damn mission, that thought would have had _a lot_ of potential.

As it was… he sighed and carefully manoeuvred himself and his clinging target towards the bed. He sat down a bit heavily, feeling the strain of overused muscles and still tender injuries. With both of them seated on the bed, Q still didn’t let go of him, instead practically burying himself in James’ arms. 

If it didn’t mean that the poor thing was either utterly terrified of his occasional lover or crying – or both – James would have been feeling rather pleased about it. As it was, he just ran a soothing hand over Q’s trembling form in an attempt to somehow improve the situation.

“I’m sorry about that Q, Alec is not usually this grumpy,” he finally ventured, despite the fact that it was completely untrue. He wasn’t entirely certain how to go about defusing this situation. All he could do was try to assure the smaller man that neither of them meant him any harm. Or any _more_ harm, as the case might be.

Whether the young man would actually _believe_ that, though... Well, the odds might be stacked against that, but James was exceptionally good at beating the odds – besides, this was Q. Q who was all soft and sweet and vulnerable, but brave and _fierce_ at the same time and, above all, constantly surprising him.

So no, he wasn’t giving up on that, no matter _what_ Alec had done to frighten the boffin.

When he didn’t receive a reply from the huddled mass leaning against him, he decided to just wait it out.

They sat in silence, with James allowing himself to stroke comforting patterns over his hacker’s back and Alec leaning back against the wall and watching them with hungry eyes. After nearly ten minutes of this, Q finally leaned back enough that James was able to see his face. 

No tear tracks, thankfully, so maybe this was still salvageable somehow.

“He’s… he’s your friend?” the younger man asked, studiously avoiding looking at the man in question. Yes, his little hacker was terrified of Alec – big brute that he was, James couldn’t exactly blame him. 

There was a nasty bruise already starting to show on the younger man’s collarbone. Damn it. He was _glad_ to have Alec – to have one friend, brother, partner, lover that he could always count on, and who actually worried about him. 

But James was well aware that his friend’s aggression was a force to be reckoned with and it was not something he had wanted to see inflicted on Q of all people. _Especially_ not on his behalf. 

His face showed nothing of the thoughts that threaded through his mind when he took in the bruises on soft skin and the frightened gaze in an innocent’s eyes and 007 mentally put it down as another black mark on his soul.

Just another thing he couldn’t change. But he could try to make up for it. Somehow.

“Yes he is. And I lied,” James admitted easily in a bid to lighten the mood, “he’s almost always grumpy.” 

Slowly, he lifted a hand and trailed it lightly over Q’s wild hair – he’d been fighting the urge to do so since practically the moment he had first laid eyes on the hacker and he was realistic enough to know that this just might be his last chance to actually act on it. “But he’s a good friend to have,” he finally continued, “the kind of friend who tracks you down and comes in guns blazing when he thinks you’re in trouble.”

At this Alec finally spoke up; “Your boat sank, your phone is dead and the only image on CCTV that anyone could find was that of you slumped and bloodied over your target’s shoulder,” the man pointed out, blunt as usual.

Bond sighed and carefully removed his hand while he waited for the moment the meaning of that sentence registered in Q’s mind. He knew that Alec’s words had been deliberately chosen and couldn’t exactly blame his partner for them. They both knew that there was no gentle way to go about this. 

And perhaps it was better that it came from Alec rather than him – if that even mattered at this point.

“Target?” the hacker whispered and he sounded as small as James had feared he would. That wounded, lost tone made every protective instinct in him flare up – like much about his erstwhile saviour. 

“Shh, you’re fine,” he tried to soothe the smaller man, “We’re MI6, no-one bad. I was just sent to ask your help with something, that’s all.”

But Q shook his head and drew back - away from arms that were generally more used to violence than comfort. James let him go, watching as the hacker scooted backwards on the bed until his back hit the headboard. With his arms curled around himself protectively, the slender man looked entirely vulnerable.

Hardened as the double-oh agent was by every mission he’d taken, it still twisted something in him to see that easy trust fall away. 

Moments like this, when his own feelings could still hit him, were rare for him nowadays, but despite the fact that they _hurt_ , James almost treasured them – he’d seen time and again what a person without guilt or compassion would become and had no desire to go down that road, inevitable as that sometimes seemed.

“MI6,” Q repeated, watching both of them with wary eyes now.

“Yes,” James admitted and when nothing followed but a rather awkward silence he tested, “…is that alright?”

He heard Alec huff, likely an aborted laugh because in the field, Agent 007 never sounded unsure. He wasn’t uncertain _now_ either – not exactly, because he knew his mission and he knew that it didn’t necessarily involve doing any harm to the young man who’d gone out of his way to save him. 

He knew what he wanted, so there was no doubt in him, no hesitation in pursuing his current course. But he _was_ cautious, carefully testing the waters. James didn’t know where Q’s triggers lay; he couldn’t be certain what would make his hacker bolt. And he would bloody well prevent that if at all possible.

Because if he managed _that_ – if he could talk this sweet genius into helping them _without_ any threat or harm it would be an immense relief for his tattered soul.

“Uh,” the hacker uttered, blinking at him, clearly surprised at the hesitant sounding question. 

It wasn’t expected, he supposed, from an agent such as himself. But who was here to judge him? So he stood by his words and waited the hacker out with an expectant look on his face.

“I… I guess?” Q said, not looking sure of anything at all. 

James will take it, though. 

“Good, that’s good Q,” he said softly, “We’re the very best of MI6, you know.”

“You are?” Q hunched in on himself a little further, shoulders coming forward, “Why would they sent _you_ after me?”

“Well, you’re the very best too, aren’t you?”

At this it seemed that the other agent couldn’t hold back anymore. “You’d _better_ be the best – I won’t take being downed like that from just anyone, you know.” That was a very big compliment, coming from the Russian, but Q just watched the larger man with scared, bewildered eyes, before turning those same eyes to James.

He’d never understood the weakness some people had for sad, fluffy baby animals – why such a creature could stir some of the most hardened men’s hearts. He didn’t feel any particular way about kittens or puppies or baby chicks. Looking at Q now, however, he could suddenly understand it, because that soft, untamed hair and that sad, hopeless expression made him want to believe that no-one could ever willingly hurt such wide-eyed innocence.

Of course he knew better, there were always people willing to tear apart anything out of greed, anger, fear or just plain hate. The double-oh agent had seen it plenty of times, after all.

“You saved my life, Q. I’m not going to hurt you,” he promised, as if it was a simple fact of life.

The truth wasn’t quite that easy of course, because he’d hurt plenty of people, no matter what they had done for him or how much he hadn’t wanted to. He regretted the necessity of it but he had long since gotten used to bloodying his hands and silencing his morals on England’s behalf. 

But there were still lines even 007 wouldn’t cross, still times when he made his own call – a different call from his superiors. Sometimes they looked away, or sometimes he managed to write it off as a glitch in the communication system – orders that _somehow_ never came through. Sometimes he disappeared off the map for a while, recovering in his own way from his missions – in a way that had nothing to do with Psych or Medical and everything to do with skilled hands, warm bodies and gently-whispered lies.

There was a line there as well, of what he could and couldn’t do as a loyal agent. 

A large part of his job was straddling all of those indefinite lines, between life and dead, loyal and treasonous, right and wrong. He was good at it, at finding a balance that he could live with.

He had to be.

Right now, though, the situation wasn’t quite that severe – he was not yet balancing on that knife’s edge. His mission _wasn’t_ to kill or retrieve the hacker, though the second of these was considered a desirable outcome by MI6. But his priority was to simply enlist the help of this hacker to resolve their current problem. 

It was perhaps a good thing that MI6 was this desperate, that the situation was urgent, because _that_ meant that they needed the hacker’s help badly enough to give Bond more or less free range to attain it. That allowed the usual violence, seduction, threats, manipulations, kidnapping... but beyond that he was also authorised to make the computer genius one of several offers. 

So no, he wasn’t planning on hurting the younger man. He was certain it wouldn’t come to that, because even if Alec scaring their hacker wasn’t exactly the most promising way to bring the mission on the table, he was still confident that he could talk the gentle-hearted man around.

“Ok,” Q said slowly, his body unfolding a little - as if a promise not to hurt him from a spy, a liar, a man like Bond actually _meant_ something. 

He hadn’t lost the young genius’ trust yet, not completely. 

Good. That was something, he could work with _something_. He'd muddled through worse missions with a lot less in his corner than an iota of trust.

James allowed his tense muscles to loosen as well, feeling the strain of his injuries come back with a vengeance now that he wasn’t automatically dismissing the pain by focussing on the situation at hand. 

Some of it showed on his face, because he didn’t bother to keep it blank. It was clear that both of the other men noticed. Alec straightened from his slouch and Q… Q surprised him once more. 

“I made soup,” the young man blurted out. The two agents stared at him. 

Q flushed and looked down, before gracelessly climbing off the bed. 

“You should probably lie down again,” the hacker ventured rather tentatively before he retreated into the corner of the room, as far away from both the bed and Alec as possible.

James waited to make sure he wouldn’t crowd into the other man’s space before slowly taking Q’s place, pushing the pillow up against the headboard and leaning back against it. 

All of this, even Alec’s deliberate, casual stillness, was a cautious dance of movements – one that felt foreign to Bond when it wasn't accompanied by the presence of cocked guns or hair-trigger explosives. 

Q cleared his throat. “I’ll… go get the soup then?” 

It was more a question than a statement, so James nodded agreeably. But when Q turned away towards the hallway he met Alec’s eyes. They couldn’t afford their target slipping away, they didn’t have enough time to go on a wild chase after a sweet but clever little genius, and Q was _definitely_ still a flight-risk. Whatever trust lay between them was, unfortunately, utterly fragile at the moment.

Alec was clearly aware of this as well, either that or he’d read it from James’ own posture without any trouble. 

“I’ll give you a hand,” the larger man declared. 

From the wary look on Q’s face, he didn’t agree with this but was too timid to argue the point. The young hacker darted around the agent and scurried into the hallway, Alec’s imposing form at his back. 

They looked like a rabbit in front of a wolf. 

James shook his head a little ruefully in the empty room and relaxed completely now, mentally taking stock of his physical state. 

His strength was still drained; almost drowning was far more taxing on a man’s body then most people realised. His right arm was weakened by the large wound, but not broken – he could hold a gun with it, though perhaps not without his arm feeling the strain. That would mean lessened accuracy but it was not enough to cripple him in the field. The rest of his injuries were negligible by his own standards. 

All in all, it was inconvenient but nothing he couldn’t work through if the situation called for it.

For now, though, he could relax. Alec was here and his partner would do his best not to scare the hacker off – both for the mission’s sake and for James’ own. 

And Q would be well protected with the other agent looking out for him. 

That left only the mission to worry about and despite the grave fallout should they fail, that seemed to him like the least complicated part.


	3. Chapter 3

Alec followed the target, quietly watching as the surprising man disabled the security protocol that had caused a wall to slam into him. He made sure to keep a careful eye out for the hacker’s every movement. 

This ‘Q’ was such a slight little thing, the furthest thing from intimidating, but Alec knew better than to let his guard down this time. After all, he had dismissed him as a threat before and had paid the price for it almost immediately.

That scared looking kitten was _fierce_ underneath his timidity. 

Alec had been filled with a burning anger when his target had gotten away from him earlier – when this _boy_ had managed to turn the tables on him completely and pulled his _own_ damn gun on him. Most of that anger had been focussed on his target, ready to make the little bastard _pay_ for it, but he’d been chagrined at himself as well. 

It was a stupid mistake, after all, and with James at risk it was not one he could afford. 

And then, of course, the whole thing had been turned on its head yet again when he saw his partner, unrestrained, patched up and with an easy, off-mission, smile on his face. 

So Alec had held back, allowed his anger to drain out of him as quickly as it had come. Because while he was not quick to forgive, he was accustomed to reassessing a situation - and in this case he had definitely read the whole thing wrong. 

Because their target, with his defiant eyes staring back at Alec from under a mop of untamed dark hair was not, in fact, hurting his friend. No, this soft, lanky thing that looked like a strong breeze would knock him over was trying to _protect_ James _from Alec_. 

His rage had subdued and without it running cold and deadly through his veins, Alec could see clearly how terrified this young man actually was - even while in possession of the gun. There were a thousand different things that marked him as a civilian – not a killer like them. 

But the slender man had still been so determined, unyielding despite his fear, standing between James and Alec like a bloody shield - between his friend and what was considered a threat, with wavering hands clenched around Alec’s gun and _damn_ if it hadn't made his blood boil in a different way. 

But whatever he wanted, the mission came first. 

Besides, their hacker didn’t seem to be very inclined to allow Alec too close to him at the moment. 

Admittedly, he _had_ given the young man plenty of reason to be cautious. And not everyone could switch mind-sets as quickly as a double-oh.

The agent had lived this life for so long that at times he almost forgot that for normal people things like threats, violence, guns and electrocution were not easily brushed aside as a simple miscommunication. It was clear enough from the hacker’s entire demeanour that he was a civilian, an innocent in many ways. He wasn’t going to be shaking this off as easily as the people Alec was used to. 

That was fine, though, because James was here and Q had, for some inexplicable reason, put some amount of trust in his friend. The other agent _did_ have a way with people, many missions had proven that 007 could charm the pants off his enemies – but sex and trust were two very different things. For people like them, and the ones they encountered on missions, trust was a scarcity. 

For Alec there was only James – the one person he trusted fully. With everyone else there were just shades of it, nebulous strands that strengthened and weakened with every interaction, every expectation met or lie told. 

But Q was different from them, the hacker gave out his trust more freely. So Alec could wait it out and see how this unfolded without their target bolting. There was already a strand of trust tying Q to him – through James. Still fragile, but undeniably there - going both ways because if the young man was willing to take _him_ on to protect James, then Alec could at least trust Q not to hurt his partner without provocation. 

Shades of trust and Alec could be patient, because this delightful little surprise was theirs for now. After all, from what he’d observed upstairs, his partner wasn’t planning on letting the hacker get away either.

He wondered how much trust his friend put in this slight man. They’d only spent a few days together, but James was different from Alec – he fell fast.

He had seen his partner fall for others before, but he’d never seen the other agent this careful with anything – not even a bomb. It was as if he was afraid he’d break the civilian in half. Which, yes, Alec could see where his occasional lover was coming from. Still, it was strange to see the other agent bestow such gentleness on anyone. 

There was affection between himself and James, but none of that softness - because neither of them was soft in any way. Their idea of comforting the other usually involved rough sex or blunt but sincere conversation. But they endured; their relationship was built on steady trust and a deep understanding of the other. 

James’ mayfly affairs, in contrast, were always sudden, passionate, risky things that tended to end in death or betrayal. Leaving Alec to help his best friend pick up the pieces.

This thing with Q looked nothing like either of those things – it was something new entirely. 

But Alec wasn’t one to be threatened by new things. After everything their friendship, relationship, whatever it was, had survived over the past twenty years he was certain it was solid enough to withstand the warm, gently stirring breeze that was Q. 

In fact, he was rather curious – and eager – to see where this went. 

Mission first. Then, if he read James right, they were damn well taking their prize home with them. 

During his musings, Alec kept a careful distance between himself and the delicate looking man who was, at the moment, still his target. Part of the reason for that was that he was wary of further surprises, but it was also to keep from spooking the other man more than he already had.

So he hung back as Q picked up the wooden spoon from the floor and quietly put it down in the sink.

He quietly observed the man checking the soup by smell and taste. From Q’s unconscious little nod he assumed that the interruption hadn’t done the food too much harm. 

Of course, the larger luck was that Alec hadn’t unintentionally caused the kitchen, and ultimately the house, to burn down with his dramatic entrance. James would probably have held that over him for years to come.

His lips twisted with rueful amusement at the thought, but his assessing eyes remained focussed on Q. The young man was self-contained, taking items from the cupboards with movements that were not exactly graceful but careful and efficient. He placed the bowls of soup on an actual serving tray, adding a plate with slices of bread before filling a pitcher with water. Then he frowned down at the tray for a moment, staring at it as if it held all the answers in the universe, and lifted his eyes to meet Alec’s own. 

He stared back at the other man, unabashed. The fact that he had been watching his target was not something he felt apologetic about. _Especially_ since Q had already proven himself to be far more capable than he had seemed at first glance. 

“Um. Did you… do you want some too?” the slight man asked him hesitantly. 

The young man looked like he wanted to do anything but interact with him, but apparently he also didn’t want to be rude. He wasn’t offering due to fear either - thought there was certainly unease around Alec - but body language told him that Q was acting from politeness, as if a rough-around-the-edges operative deserved to be treated with the same human kindness as everyone else. 

Alec smiled, feeling a warm sort of amusement at that thought. “Yes, thank you,” he replied, returning that politeness with his own. 

Those simple words helped ease the tension in the hesitant man’s frame, he noted bemusedly, and with a decisive nod Q continued making up the tray. 

The other man seemed to have gained some confidence from that short interaction, enough to brave the agent's eyes again. “Could you,” he waved his hand at the water pitcher that couldn’t fit on the tray. 

Gamely, he walked forward, testing Q’s response with each slow step he took. He wasn’t surprised that when Alec came too close for comfort, the hacker quickly picked up the tray and skirted around him.

Unconcerned, the agent picked up the pitcher and followed.

There was plenty of time yet, and he and James were nothing if not convincing.

 

* * *

 

“Um, here,” Q said, offering the wounded MI6 agent a bowl of the homemade soup. It was chicken soup, with a lot of vegetables. Injured wasn’t the same as sick, of course, but he didn’t know any other miracle foods that could cure all ills, so it was just as good as anything.

He held himself still as James leaned forward and took the bowl from his hand. He was aware that he was being ridiculous about all of this – secret agent or not, James hadn’t made single threatening move in all the time he’d know the man.

Granted, that was actually only two days and the man had spent most of those unconscious - but it definitely felt a lot longer.

Still, as the agent’s mission involved Q - _he was James’ target_ \- it was very much justifiable for him to be wary.

 _Target_. The word sounded so cold and terrible that even thinking it in association with himself made it feel as if some insidious creature was burrowing into his chest and _squeezing_ everything it could reach.

Unconsciously, he curled up around his warm bowl of chicken soup. 

He wanted to ask – what would happen now? Why had they been sent after him? What did they _want_ from Q? 

He _needed_ to know these things but had no desire whatsoever to actually _hear_ the answers to these questions. Because they would involve words like ‘mission’ and ‘target’ and quite possibly guns and threats and that was not something Q felt in any way equipped to handle right now.

He squeezed his eyes shut and breathed in. The scent of homemade soup didn’t have its usual comforting effect. Instead he felt a bit queasy. 

Trying to push those feelings away, Q opened his eyes and took a careful spoonful of the soup. His throat hurt a little when he swallowed. 

He hunched down even further, feeling utterly miserable. He kept his eyes on the bowl, mouth turned down in a near scowl. Even the chicken soup wasn’t helping – some miracle food _that_ was.

 

* * *

 

James sighed, noticing Q staring down at his food as if _it_ was going to eat _him_. He raised his eyebrow at Alec, wondering if the other agent had done anything to scare him further. 

His friend shrugged before commenting; “I know _I_ didn’t poison it.”

Now Q finally looked up, blinking rapidly as he stared at Alec for a moment, before apparently deciding that James was safer to look at. The younger man was clearly wondering what they were talking about.

“We wondered who poisoned the soup,” he clarified, with a smile to show that he was not serious.

The hacker missed the joking tone entirely. “It’s not poisoned,” he exclaimed before looking down at the soup a little more thoughtfully, “Is it bad?” 

Q took another bite, this time actually paying attention to what he was doing. “It doesn’t taste that bad.” 

The smaller man looked up at him. “I wouldn’t poison you, James,” he promised earnestly. 

James shook his head fondly, setting his own half-empty bowl down on the tray before gently taking the one from Q’s hands and putting it down as well. 

“I wasn’t actually worried about that,” he made sure to explain clearly this time, “you just looked at your bowl as if it was set to explode at any moment, that’s all. Not hungry?” 

Q shook his head, leaning back with a sigh. “No,” he admitted, “not hungry.” 

“Alright. How about some conversation instead? I’m sure you’re wondering about what we’re doing here,” Bond offered, his body language friendly and open. “I can explain about our mission and if you still have any questions afterwards you can ask them – does that sound fair?”

“Yes,” the other man agreed a little hoarsely before clearing his throat and continuing a bit more confidently, “that sounds fair.” 

“You don’t mind if _I_ eat, do you?” Alec interposed, one arm sneaking forward to grab a piece of bread, dunking it unceremoniously into his soup and taking a bite.

Q’s eyes followed the motions, looking warily at the large man to see if he was going to do anything else. His partner was good at acting casual, though, and looked like any other man enjoying a meal. 

“It’s pretty good,” Alec said, pretending at defensiveness at the hacker’s stare. 

“Oh, um. Thank you?” 

To James’ surprise, this simple interaction seemed to work as a charm for disarming the wary hacker. Q relaxed a little, as if a simple compliment on his food somehow made up for the earlier attack – which didn’t make sense at all. 

“Familiar rules of politeness,” Alec muttered down to his soup in Russian as if it was a prayer, “comfort at being back in known territory.”

That explained both everything and nothing at all. Q was a strange creature, though, so he wasn’t certain why he was even surprised at all. It clearly worked, though, so he made a mental note of it and forged on. 

“As you know, we’re field agents for MI6. We are tracking down a hack into not just our own system, but the defence network of Britain,” Bond explained in a calm and steady voice, “I’m sure you can imagine the possible consequences of compromised missions and agents – and that’s just the _information_ the hacker has access to. If he can take over our system, or that of the other branches of government, the consequences could turn out to be… highly undesirable.” 

He waited for Q’s nod of understanding before continuing. “He gave us a deadline, four days from now, and before that time he wishes to receive a payday that, as you may imagine, is rather steep. As a hacker yourself, you must know that a pay-out doesn’t necessarily resolve our problem. Nothing prevents him from downloading whatever information he desires and selling this later. He could also make additional demands after the payment has been made – we have no assurances that he will actually leave our systems alone after this. He’s certainly already proved to be someone who has no scruples threatening the safety of all agents and civilians working for the British government.” 

It was, of course, highly unconventional for an agent to explain his mission in such detail to anyone in the field, let alone his target. But Bond had been given a carte blanche for this mission and as long as it _worked_ , no-one would question his judgment about it afterwards. 

Conventional wasn’t exactly his calling card anyway – nor was it Alec’s for that matter. If it worked, it worked and they had a pressing deadline to work towards. Expedience was more important in this case – and the most expedient way to gain Q’s help was not going to be capture or threats. The hacker had already proven to have a few surprises up his sleeves and he was not going to be wasting time chasing the computer genius across the city or playing any other kind of cat and mouse game.

No, he would do something left-field. He would bloody well _ask_. 

And if that failed – well, there was always seduction, but though there was a deep animal part of him that _wanted_ this sweet hacker as his own, it galled him to manipulate this trusting man the same way he’d done with countless others. 

He carefully didn’t examine the why of that – he was never inclined to look too deeply into his own psyche. 

“I was sent to find you specifically because you’re on the map as a highly skilled, generally white-hat hacker. In some circles, they say you are the best. And we _need_ the best, because the person holding our systems hostage is not someone all of our own computer specialists working together can track, let alone shut down entirely. That’s why we were sent after you.”

Having said his piece, he patiently waited for Q to respond.

“And you came to ask for my help?” the hacker wavered a little on the word ask, but James felt it best to ignore that. 

“Yes. It’s important, Q. It’s _so_ important that when the ship went down and I went off the grid, they sent out another agent. Their best after me.”

“Their _best_ , you mean. Sent to complete the mission where _you_ , number two, failed,” Alec predictably shot back. 

Q frowned and looked between them both and James wondered what the little genius was thinking – was he considering his chances of escape, or considering the terrible consequences to many people if the other, nefarious hacker carried out his threats? Was he weighing the needs of England against his own? 

Finally the younger man let out a deep, shaky breath and quietly asked; “And how would that work, exactly?” 

“How would what work, little hacker?” Alec asked, coming in closer to put his empty bowl on the tray. “Can I have that one too?” he asked shamelessly, gesturing at the hacker’s own bowl of soup. 

Right now it was hard to tell whether the other agent was trying to be unthreatening or obnoxious. Knowing Alec, the man was probably aiming for both. 

Q looked at the soup, his baffled air making him look all the more adorable. “Yes?” 

That was all the permission the large blond needed and he scooped up the other bowl with a quick 'thanks' in Russian. 

The dark-haired man blinked at the distraction before physically shaking his head and pushing his mind back on track, “ _Helping_. What would that entail? Where… _what_ , exactly, are you asking of me?” 

Ah. ‘Where’, Q had asked initially – and that made sense. The hacker was wary, or unwilling, of coming back to MI6 with them, Bond presumed.

“You know that better than us,” he answered with a studiously unconcerned shrug, “If you agree to help us, I can get you anything you need to get this done - people, computers, access. MI6 needs your help quite desperately, you know. Which is a good thing for _you_ , because that means that we’re allowed to use our own judgement on this – we’re free to do whatever we need to get the job done.” 

“Like… like what?” Q asked nervously. 

“Well,” his partner answered for him between two large bites, “I’m pretty sure plan B is seduction.”

James resisted the urge to punch the man - Alec was impossible sometimes. “You’re not supposed to actually _tell_ him that, Alec.” 

The man grinned back at him, “Oh, you mean like how you’re not supposed to inform our _target_ of the whole damn mission?” 

“It’s expedient,” James pointed out, “this _is_ rather urgent. Talking around the issue isn’t going to get anything done.”

“Don’t mind Alec,” he said, turning back to Q – who had a wonderful blush on his face – “he was raised in Russia.” As if that explained anything at all. Well, it explained _many things_ about his closest friend, but nothing to do with this. 

Alec didn’t respond other than with a raised eyebrow and they lapsed into silence for a moment. 

“Do you need a moment to think about this?” he asked seriously when it became clear that Q wasn’t going to be breaking the silence. 

Q looked down, fidgeting a little with the ends of his sleeves. “I thought it was urgent?”

“It is,” James answered, “But there is urgent and there is _urgent_. There are no bombs set to explode a minute from now.” 

“No,” Q whispered, soft as a sigh, “I can- help.”

Imperceptible to the civilian in their midst, both men allowed some of their hidden tenseness to fall away. It appeared they weren’t going to be running after a tricky stray at the moment. “That’s good. That will be most helpful, Q.”

“But. But we do it _here_. And… after - after this MI6 will leave me alone,” he insisted.

James cocked his head, assessing the nervous hacker, “Alright. We can do that. I’ll make the deal with our superiors. Your help in exchange for their guarantee to not pursue you. There will be some limitations – such as if you end up doing something to endanger or threaten England, much like our current attacker, but I can extract a promise of the sort.”

The smaller man let out a breath at his easy agreement. “Ok. That’s acceptable. We can do that.” 

The agent smiled, “So what do you need, for this? Money? Computers? Minions?”

“Just- my laptop for now?” Q answered hesitantly, “I need to- go take a look. I won’t get in trouble, right? For hacking into MI6?” 

Alec chuckled at that, “If you do, we will shoot the moron giving you trouble. MI6 is _filled_ with idiots it could do without, insisting on proper procedure and access forms. It’s ridiculous.”

James shook his head fondly, not quite disagreeing with his partner. “You won’t get in trouble. Though we _can_ get you legitimate access.” 

“No,” the computer genius refused, setting up his laptop right there on the bed, “It will be faster this way – and it might give me an idea of how your other hacker got in.”

“Hacking is faster than requesting access?” James asked a little dubiously, because he’d heard enough from the geeks in their tech branch how difficult their systems supposedly are to breach – believable enough since this was hardly the first time someone had tried, but it was definitely the first time someone had succeeded quite this thoroughly.

He didn’t doubt that Q _could_ do it, there was a reason he’d been sent after the young genius, but _faster_?

“Bureaucracy,” Alec reminded him, finally leaving his position against the wall to sit down on the bed as well. The hacker only glanced at him before giving his full attention on his computer. 

The Russian man raised an eyebrow and moved an assessing gaze over their target before sliding just a bit closer. No reaction whatsoever. James blinked. What happened to that skittish man of only moments ago? 

They shared an amused look over the head of the preoccupied boffin. The computer genius seemed to have closed himself out completely from the world outside of his laptop screen.

James switched his gaze to rest fondly on the hacker, noticing what was on the screen from over the man’s shoulder. “Wait, is that…?” 

“Hmm?” the hacker made an inquiring noise. 

“You’re already in,” Bond realised – Q was already running around in their supposedly well-secured system, pulling up their current mission files and information without trouble – including his own threat analysis.

He cursed softly, impressed by what the little computer genius could achieve within ten minutes. _In bed_. 

“Fuck,” he said again, this time with lust coating his voice – which made his lover chuckle and move to sit next to him, a warm arm brushing against James’ uninjured one. 

“What a sweet, competent little thing you have found us”, Alec whispered in his ear in deep, rough Russian, “Are we keeping this one?”

“Do you want to?” James asked in the same language, because usually it was him with lovers aside from the other man – and they had never shared anyone for anything more permanent than one night. And that was clearly _not_ what Alec was aiming for with that remark. 

“The fierce little kitten electrocuted me,” the other agent reminded him, “he _threatened_ me with my own gun – to protect _you_.” Only Alec would make something like that sound like a sexual act. 

Not that he disagreed with the fact that it had been both heart-warming and incredibly arousing. 

“Ours then,” James agreed, “If he wants.”

“We can be charming,” Alec shrugged, unconcerned. 

That was really all that needed to be said between them. They were both aware that their current mission was too vital for them to risk scaring Q off right now. 

The mission came first. England came first.

And they both knew that if _that_ should ever change, well, where one went the other would follow. 

“I’ll make the call,” James offered, in English this time, knowing that MI6 would want to know both the status of the mission as well as his own status. He was also the more diplomatic of the two of them, so perhaps it was also best for him to do the negotiating on Q’s behalf.

He glanced at the man in question – now looking completely in his element, even stretching out a little on the bed. 

“Q?” he asked, nudging the man gently to get his attention. 

“…yes?” came the distracted reply, not even the tiniest hint of trepidation remaining in his posture or voice. Was it really that easy? Give their computer genius a laptop and a challenge and he was completely in his element?

Ridiculous, but very, very cute. 

It made something in his being relax to see the young man like this, not fearful or nervous but utterly comfortable and confident in his own skills. It was a similar dichotomy as the young man’s obvious hesitance and fear when he stared Alec down over a gun and yet his fierce determination not to back down. And yet, James was starting to learn, it was all undeniably Q.

“I’m going to make that call to MI6. Is there anything you need? Or want? Right now is the moment to make demands,” James pointed out, not that it usually needed to be said. But then usually on his missions he found himself dealing with people as hardened and calculating as himself.

Judging by how damn innocent this hacker seemed, however, he felt that maybe Q needed it spelled out for him. He seemed to be the exception to every unwritten rule. 

“Demands?” was Q’s rather baffled response.

Alec made a noise that sounded like an aborted laugh. His partner was obviously just as amused at the fact that Q didn’t seem to have any idea what they were getting at. 

“They need something you have. So you can ask for something in return. Like money. Or an expensive car, a nude MI6 calendar,” Alec suggested, “A beach holiday – all expenses paid.”

“That’s… didn’t we already agree on leaving me alone?” Q looked at James instead of Alec and he felt a bit smug at clearly having been designated the more reliable one.

“We did. And that’s fine, Q,” James agreed with a gentleness that was generally foreign to a serious negotiation, “But you’re doing a job for us, in a way. It wouldn’t be too strange to ask to be paid for it. Like a consultant.”

Their hacker seemed to consider this for a moment, tilting his head a little in a way that made his wavy hair seem to stick out even more.

“ _Should_ I ask for anything more? Would that be better, I mean?” Q asked hesitantly – and yes, his target was asking for advice from him about negotiating with his own damn agency, which was definitely a first, “Does _not_ asking for anything else make me look suspicious? Or… like a pushover?”

James couldn’t resist, he slowly reached out and lightly ruffled his hacker’s hair. Q really was a captivating person. The smaller man looked up at him, perplexed but unafraid. “I can already tell that you’re at least as dangerous as the hacker currently causing all of this trouble. MI6 is not stupid enough to consider you a pushover. It’s fine if you ask for more – it’s also fine if you don’t.” 

“I don’t need anything else,” Q concluded with finality. 

James smiled at him. “Alright.” 

That settled, Bond slowly stood up from the bed, ignoring the slight twinge of his injuries. M must be dying for an update on this – the situation was quite severe. Thankfully he had some good news to share.

He could feel the hacker’s eyes on him until he left the room. He paused outside, unconsciously waiting for something. When the sound of talented fingers dancing over a keyboard started up again Bond smiled and continued on.


	4. Chapter 4

“Bond checking in for M,” James said simply into his mobile, waiting until he was transferred up to M.

“Still alive?” the harried sounding man asked when they were connected.

“Good afternoon to you too, M”, he returned with every ounce of his charm.

“Good afternoon, 007,” the man replied, humouring him – something the old M never would have done. “Status?” 

“I’m alive. My target saved me from a sinking ship - it was all very romantic,” Bond informed his superior, before adding faux-thoughtfully, “I believe it’s because I’m too charming for _anyone_ to let me drown.”

He heard M sigh and, as usual, the man decided to ignore his extraneous opinions, “You disappeared off the radar, we sent Trevelyan as mission backup.” 

“Oh, I’m aware - he’s here. His presence is, of course, causing more trouble than it solves but I suppose we’ll make the best of it.”

“I’m sure,” M answered with a dose of sarcasm, “But I’m more interested in hearing if you have managed to obtain the hacker?” 

“When have I ever let you down?” he asked rhetorically, only continuing after he heard his superior’s aggravated sigh. “We have him. With 006 here there’s no chance of him bolting – well, there’s a _higher_ chance of him bolting because - of course - Alec just _had_ to overreact to my disappearance. But between the both of us we should be able to keep him secure.”

“There was a chance _you_ wouldn’t be able to keep him secure?” M asked curiously. 

“I'm not in optimal shape,” Bond admitted, “Nothing serious.”

Thankfully M didn’t push for more details on that – he hated discussing injuries, especially when still in the field. Besides, he was already healing. And there were far more important things to worry about than a few scratches and bruises.

In this case, M seemed to agree with him. “Time is pressing, 007. The deadline is in _less than four days_ and our tech branch says it would take even the best of hackers a _week_ to back-hack - or however they want to call it. I’m sure you can do the math just as well as I can, to know that this is not in our favour. So tell me you have something for me.” 

“I have a computer genius,” he said, for once the bearer of good news. The situation really would have become rather dire if they hadn’t been able to track Q down, “He hacked into MI6 and pulled up our mission file as well as his own threat analysis in under ten minutes. He can do this,” James informed his superior with confidence, because while he was not an expert in computers he _did_ know people. And he was certain that if anyone could pull this off it was Q.

“Good,” M said, “Will he?”

“Well, as Alec can attest, threatening him was not the wisest course of action here. You should ask him to explain during the debriefing just how he let a slight thing like _that_ disarm him and turn his own gun back on him,” he smiled at the memory, “It was quite something.” 

“Bond…”

He casually continued, accustomed to ignoring a warning tone from more frightening people than Mallory. Such as the previous M. “I, as your _smart_ agent, went for the logical approach – he’s a genius, it was bound to appeal.”

“Will he do it, Bond?” M pressed.

“Of course he will - I’m your best agent for a reason. He just has one demand.” 

“And that is?”

“That we leave him alone afterwards. No approaching him with other jobs, no work offers and _definitely_ no kidnapping or disappearing him into a governmental basement.” 

It was a bigger demand than he’d let on to Q – because while it may sound rather simple, hackers on Q’s level were rare. And, as the current situation attested, _dangerous_.

Mallory fell silent for a moment, considering. “If he turns out to be a threat to our country…”

James shrugged, invisibly to the man on the other side of the phone. “You have his threat profile – he’s been a white-hat hacker so far. Having met this ‘Q’ in person… He’s a sweet little thing and the furthest thing I’ve ever seen from a threat. I _did_ mention that he saved me, didn’t I?”

“In your _professional_ opinion, he’s no danger to Britain?”

“No sir, he’s not,” the agent replied – serious for a moment. And then he continued on in his more casual tone. “He’s perfectly agreeable until you threaten him. Speaking of… who made the call that _Alec_ , of all people, would be the right person to send to persuade a skittish hacker?”

“You were down, 007,” M answered unapologetically, “Considering the situation we couldn’t afford to take any chances.”

James hummed. “Well, 006 proceeded to threaten our hacker. Rather unwisely, as it turned out. Good thing I was there to diffuse the situation or you might have been lacking either a computer genius or an operative by now.” 

That wasn’t entirely true, of course, Alec wouldn’t let his own anger jeopardize a mission and he couldn’t see Q actually killing anyone. Though, when pressed far enough into a corner, he believed that any person was capable of such a thing. “Speaking of the two of them, it is probably unwise to leave them alone together for too long. We _do_ still want Q to help us after all.”

“You’re certain you can get him to do this and do this _right_? Without leaving us any unpleasant surprises?” 

“Yes, I can,” he replied confidently. Q had already agreed, after all. He didn’t strike James as the kind of person who’d go back on his word – not unless they really messed this up. Which – yes, he _did_ need to get back to them, to ensure that Alec hadn’t frightened the civilian off yet. 

“Good. Do it. You know the deadline, you know your mission – get it done, agent.” 

“Don’t I always?” he asked rhetorically. 

M sighed deeply. “Did you seduce him?” the other man finally asked, probably out of some sort of morbid curiosity. 

“Not yet,” he answered with a grin, “but I should really get back to that.” 

He could hear the strained silence even from across the phone. “I’ll expect an update tomorrow, Bond,” the man finally said. 

“Sir,” he acknowledged more-or-less politely and rang off. 

 

* * *

 

When he returned he found Alec lounging casually on the bed. His partner glanced at him before fixing his eyes back onto the younger man.

Their hacker was as calm and content as when James had left. Despite his earlier observations, he’d still expected the man to be wary of being left alone with Alec, but with his laptop in front of him like a shield, Q didn’t seem to feel threatened in any way.

Fond blue eyes looked down at the preoccupied man and he moved closer, looking at the screen. “You’ve gotten a clear picture of the situation yet, Q?”

In response to James’ voice behind him, the hacker tilted his head slightly towards him, but didn’t tear his eyes away from his laptop. "Ah, yes. I do see what you meant, James. It’s quite the predicament your agency has gotten into, this hacker is certainly skilled.”

For such a blunt assessment, Q sounded entirely unworried, but then, he also sounded distracted – caught in in his own little hackerspace. 

“Can you do it?” James asked seriously.

“What? Oh, yes, of course,” Q finally looked up, meeting his eyes steadily. Then he blinked, seemingly realising that this wasn’t just a digital contest of skills – that there were real lives depending on this. The younger man frowned a little and pursed his lips. “I’ll find him,” the computer genius promised with true intent.

James allowed his face to crinkle into a smile, “Of course you will, Q,” he returned fondly.

The funny thing was, that no matter how many people had broken their word to him in the past – and no matter how many times he had failed to uphold his _own_ promises – he still took the hacker at his word.

Q would do everything he could to find their attacker and to close him down completely.

And when he did, MI6 would make sure that the person behind this would never get another chance.

 

* * *

 

The next few hours passed slowly, but he didn’t mind. He was settled back on the bed, Alec having surrendered his spot so that James could lay back with some amount of comfort. Some of his injuries were a stinging annoyance when he was up and moving so James was grateful enough for the rest.

He was also grateful that Q didn’t seem to mind. The defensiveness that had come when Q had found out just who, exactly, Bond was and what he was doing here had melted away in the face of the challenge they’d provided their hacker with. 

The younger hacker didn’t seem to mind James’ nearness now. And he was close enough that if he closed his eyes, he fancied he could feel the smaller man's body heat radiating towards him.

He didn’t close his eyes, though. He kept them open and they rested almost lazily on the slender form bent over his laptop. Quiet moments like these were rare on the missions 007 was sent on, so he allowed himself to enjoy it while it lasted – to bask in the sound of Q’s fingers smoothly gliding over his keyboard with a rhythmic tapping alike to heavy rain against the window. 

And James could relax, could allow himself to sit back and study this compelling young man and let himself smile freely when he heard unintentional sighs and soft curses fall from Q’s lips - because Alec was right there, keeping watch over both of them and there was no-one he could trust more. 

 

* * *

 

“What’s that?” the hacker asked curiously, leaning back from the laptop. He’d stopped his frantic typing some time ago and was now passively watching the screen.

James held up his hand to show Q what he’d been carefully looking over – the wristwatch he’d been issued from Q-branch that didn’t appear to be functioning anymore. Or, at least it didn’t tell the correct time anymore, he wasn’t certain about the small but focussed explosive charge. 

The agent fought back his surprise when Q moved in fearlessly and, with no regard for person space, reached over Bond to touch the watch still in his hand.

“Hmm, what is it supposed to do?”

“A slight incendiary charge – it’s meant to blow up locks and the like.”

His casual answer was enough to have Q staring up at him with a look that said he wasn’t sure if James was joking. In reply he shrugged. It could come in handy.

“There are far more sophisticated lock-picks than a bomb, agent,” the slight hacker replied and he could swear there was disdain spread all over that sentence. 

Q went back to the laptop, doing something on it, and James locked gazes with Alec, reading the same amused bafflement there. Their skittish hacker was damn well stroppy when he wasn’t afraid for his life. 

“Ah, well that won’t do,” the hacker said moments later with a shake of his head and barged into James’ personal space again. He let him, of course, more amused than anything.

When Q looked at the offending item again, his nose was wrinkled up into a scornful little frown that was far more endearing than it had any right to be.

“I can maintain my own weapons,” James felt the need to point out, but he didn’t protest as the boffin boldly stole the weaponised watch from his hand.

“Yes, you’re very skilled with them, I’m sure. This rather requires slightly more finesse, though.”

“ _Finesse_? Should I feel insulted?”

Q blinked up at him, the picture of innocence – seemingly unaware of any insult given. “Ah. No, of course not. But I have the blue-prints of this little engineering marvel right up here, you see. Quite an interesting plaything, really, though I can imagine some rather more useful applications in the field… and they really should have ensured it was waterproof. Even _commercial_ watches are waterproof. Don’t worry, though, it’ll be easy enough to fix.”

“Now don’t think I’m complaining,” James said, leaning back to watch the delightful young man fiddle with his stolen loot, “But shouldn’t you be tracking the hacker? Dozens of governmental secrets and lives at stake might be a slight bit more urgent than my ‘plaything’.”

“My program is breaking through the coding – I can’t do anything else until the algorithm is finished.”

Which would explain why Q had been looking at his laptop screen as if it had personally insulted him for the past ten minutes. “Hmm, then perhaps that makes this dinnertime?”

“Dinner?” The boffin honestly looked confused, as if food was a foreign concept. Perhaps cooking the chicken soup was a one-off then?

“Food, Q,” he said fondly, “Everyone needs to eat.”

“Ah, yes. Food. I can-“ Q moved to get up but a hand on his arm made him stop in his tracks and look up nervously at the Russian man towering over him.

There was no threat in Alec’s form; James could see that the other man had softened his stance, and expression, as much as he ever did. The large hand resting on Q’s small arm was not actually holding him – it was just a weight, a steady presence. 

“James’ got it, _kotyonok_ ,” his friend said, “He’s an excellent cook.”

“He’s wounded!” Q shot back at the agent – then paled when he realised just _who_ he’d just been scolding. 

Alec backed off, picking up on the other man’s fearful body language, but didn’t bother to hide his amusement. “He’s fine, little hacker, don’t worry about him.”

The boffin opened his mouth, then seemed to think better of it and closed it again. Soft eyes half-hidden under fly-away hair sought out his own.

“I can handle dinner, Q,” James assured him, a warm amusement in the pit of his stomach at how absurd the whole situation was. 007 had run for miles with worse injuries, had scaled walls and infiltrated enemy strongholds in a far more severe state than this - and this sweet, gentle soul was worried that he’d hurt himself _preparing dinner_.

Q bit his lip, gaze fixed upon James’ bandaged arm. “Are you sure? Because it looked- rather painful.”

“Quite sure, thank you Q,” he smiled ruefully at the endearing young man, “Go play with the explosive watch. I’ll see to dinner.”

 

* * *

 

Dinner took a little longer than he’d initially thought – there wasn’t a lot in terms of food supplies so, secure in the knowledge that Alec was keeping an eye on things, he stepped out for a moment to grab a few essentials.

He decided against seafood and, to be on the safe side, didn’t use any nuts. He hadn’t stopped to ask Q about allergies but, from the fact that the boffin had made chicken soup earlier, at least felt confident that the man wasn’t a vegetarian. In the end he settled on a rich pasta and some garlic bread – Q looked like he needed every calorie he could get.

A glance at what passed for a small kitchen dining area made him decide against setting the table – the flimsy looking-chairs were entirely uninviting.

The couch looked like a better alternative and he knew that Alec was also generally more interested in comfort than tradition. He drained the pasta and turned the heat down to the lowest setting to keep the sauce warm and then made his way up the stairs again to bully a fragile-looking boffin into eating.

He paused in the hallway. “You’re not angry?” he heard Q’s careful voice through the door and he crept a little closer to listen, wondering how they’d gotten to this point and how this would play out. Had something happened during his absence?

“Why would I be angry?” Alec asked easily, deliberately approachable.

There was a moment of silence and James could picture Q fidgeting a little. He wondered what expression the hacker was wearing right now – embarrassed? Fearful? Adorable? All three were reasonable guesses. 

Finally, he spoke again, “I- the, I hurt you, didn’t I?”

“I hurt you first,” the agent pointed out calmly and James could tell that his friend was just as taken with the little hacker as he was, because the man was hardly ever this patient.

Another long silence and James leaned against the door, waiting it out just as Alec was. Just because they were usually men of action, rushing into one dangerous situation after another, that didn’t mean they didn’t know the importance of waiting when the situation called for it. 

“I took your gun, though,” the younger man ventured, “and most people don’t like it when- well, when someone like me… shows them up?” 

A deep laugh with a genuine fondness that no-one else could recognize as easily as him, “Ah, never worry about that, Q. James and I, we _like_ competent.” 

He tilted his head, wondering if Alec would push this further – he couldn’t exactly blame his friend because their hacker was sweet and soft and fiery, but also rather skittish. But no, the other man made the same call as James had – patience and careful hands, because the two of them could break something this precious into tiny pieces without even trying. 

His friend had let the barely-hidden desire slide out of his voice, replacing it with warmth. “You protected James, even from me. All frightened and determined and pointing my own damn gun at me. Most adorable thing I’ve ever seen.” 

James shook his head with a smile, that wasn’t even close to an actual lie – in Alec’s world, and in some extent his own, electrocuting and threatening him with a gun was practically a courtship. But whereas James had gathered the poor, terrified, brave hacker into his arms, Alec’s eyes had darkened with something a little more base. 

Still, adorable was more or less the truth for both of them. 

“Oh,” he heard Q softly exclaim, before checking again, just to be sure, “so… so, not angry then?”

“No, _kotyonok_ ,” the man soothed, “not angry.” 

He waited a little longer, listening to his partner’s murmurings in Russian, letting the gentle words from the usually rough man brush against him for a moment before he quietly opened the door. The other agent looked up immediately, but Q didn’t seem to notice. 

James smiled at the sight of his hacker curled into Alec’s side like an actual cat.

“Did you talk it all out, then?” he quietly asked. 

Despite the fact that he was trying not to startle the younger man, Q was still surprised at his sudden presence and backed away from Alec as far as he could with the other man still holding him. Which wasn't very far, admittedly, since the agent was clearly not planning on letting go unless the hacker actually _asked_ him to. 

“James! I- uh.” That bewildered look on Q’s face made him look even younger than he was and utterly vulnerable. 

“Yes,” Alec replied unruffled, “we talked it out. All good now.”

They were both deliberately ignoring the fact that Q was obviously feeling embarrassed at being ‘caught’ like this. As if there was anything wrong with letting someone hold or comfort him. 

Not something either of them agreed with, so they continued a casual conversation in the hope that continuing as if nothing was happening would make the boffin realise that there was, in fact, nothing to be embarrassed about.

“That’s good. I know Alec scared you when he showed up in his usual protective rage,” he stated softly.

Alec let out a huff but didn’t protest – it was mostly true after all, “I was worried about that foolish idiot – he gets himself hurt far too often. I apologize for hurting you, _kotyonok_.”

James looked down at the both of them, watching affectionately as his best friend ran a painstakingly tender hand over their boffin’s back. 

Neither of the two agents was very familiar with gentle – they’d never truly had a need for it. Even in seduction Bond was more accustomed to deliberate, flaring passion than a truly tender touch. 

So no, neither of them had much of a clue about what they were doing.

But from the way Q slowly relaxed again in Alec’s hold, whatever they were doing was just fine.

“You made food, James?” the Russian broke the tender atmosphere with his usual bluntness, “Because I could definitely eat.”

He sighed but nodded, “Yes, Alec, I did in fact make dinner.”

Then he looked at Q, not even bothering to hide his amused grin, “C’mon, Q. We should get there before Alec does – because despite my efforts table manners are still a foreign concept to him. I don’t think he knows how to share food.”

“Is that why he stole my soup?” Q pointedly asked, slipping easily from the other man’s arms now that the agent let him.

“I asked,” Alec protested, “ _Politely_ even.”

James nodded, “He’s making some progress at least.”

“Hey!” the broad man replied, pushing his way past the both of them, “See if I leave you any now.”

He shook his head fondly and looked at their hacker, gratified to find an equally amused look on the younger man’s face and none of his earlier hesitance.

Yes, they were doing just fine.


	5. Chapter 5

“James?” Q asked, half-closing the lid of his laptop so that his face was visible – smooth pale skin and wide eyes blinking against the afternoon sun coming from the window. 

The slender man looked even more ruffled and tired than when James had first him - something that was probably owed to the short nights and abundance of time spent behind his laptop. The two agents had managed to coax him into eating somewhat regularly, at least, which apparently the hacker needed reminding of, but ensuring that the boffin got a full night's sleep was quite beyond either of them.

And considering the rather steep deadline they, well Q, was working against he admittedly hadn't pushed the issue as much as he might have otherwise.

“Yes?" he answered, slowly sitting up and frowning at the hacker, feeling worry run through him at the sudden change he read in the younger man’s demeanour. Q had been entirely at ease in their presence just now, hacking to his heart’s content. So what had spooked him so suddenly?

Q didn’t look at him, eyes focussed on the coffee table instead. “… what’s MI6 like?” the man finally asked him.

The agent tilted his head, as if in thought, acting as if nothing was wrong – though clearly _something_ was. 

“It’s... a large organisation,” Bond started slowly, “There are many departments – with different people working together for a common goal. I don’t like Medical, of course, hate them even more than Psych – which is an entirely useless department. But, the quartermaster branch… they are useful. They give us the tools we require for our missions – weapons, technology, and communication, everything we need to get to the other side.”

During his description, Q slowly leaned over towards him. His shoulders were still hunched up defensively, though, and the wary glances he shot at Alec were telling. Their boffin looked once more like the scared little thing he had been after James’ overzealous friend had violently burst into their midst. 

What had happened to the trust they’d been slowly building these past few days? Q had been lowering his guard ever since they came to the agreement about the hacker’s help with this mission. From then on the other man's wariness towards the both of them had lessened, and every show of trust or amused huff of laughter from the slender genius had been marked down in James’ mind as an achievement - which was markedly different from what he would usually count as a win on a mission.

And now something seemed to have made that hard-won progress suddenly reverse. That thought was almost enough to fill him with a cold anger at whatever their hacker had come across on that laptop to make this happen. But, expertly, he held it back.

Not a hint of his thoughts showed on his face as he continued describing MI6. He even managed to infuse his words with some genuine warmth when he talked about the little geeks scurrying around in the tech branch by picturing Q sitting there amongst them. Their little hacker would fit in well amongst the boffins in the tech branch, which meant that James could suddenly see the whole damn department in a much kinder light. So he spoke almost fondly of the many screens and computers, the organized chaos and how he wondered if the denizens of IT-land lived off of tea and take-out.

Q let out a shaky breath and finally seemed to have come to a decision. James was far too relieved to admit to when the skittish man put the laptop down onto the table and vacated the armchair to join him on the couch. He smiled and continued talking, drifting seamlessly from facts into little anecdotes - and slowly the tentative man relaxed and shifted closer to him, until Q was finally leaning against him. 

James settled his arms carefully around the boffin and drew him in more securely. He looked up at Alec, to see if the other agent had any idea what this was about. His friend had stopped cleaning his weapons and his deep, observant eyes were accompanied with an even deeper frown. The other agent was just as clueless as he was.

From a lack of any sort of clue on how to fix this, James just continued talking about MI6 and London while he lightly brushed his fingers through the dark mop of hair lying against his shoulder.

When he finally ran out of things to say, Q curled in even closer and asked in a small voice; “But you don’t have to take me there, do you? We agreed- I just need to track this hacker down, follow him back, steal back the files and nuke his system. That’s _all_ right?”

“Yes. Yes, Q, that’s all,” James promised evenly while his mind raced, trying to figure out what had set the younger man off – perhaps a file on MI6’s servers? Something regarding Q? 

If M had no intention of backing their earlier agreement up, it could lead to trouble for all of them - because James had no intention of breaking that promise. If Q didn’t want to come in, then the agent would try his utmost to convince the younger man, but he wouldn't forcefully take him. No matter what MI6 demanded from him.

What was one more lie on his mission debrief in the grand scheme of things, really? It wasn't like he'd never twisted the facts before to save his own tired soul from whatever heartache he could. As long as it didn't go against England, of course. The line he always walked.

He wondered if he'd end up having to balance on that precarious edge yet again.

But whatever was going on here, Q _did_ need to know that… “But you _can_ come back with us Q. You don’t _have_ to, but you can.”

“I don’t have to,” the slight hacker repeated, “I don’t have to.”

“Q…” James started, with the utmost gentleness, “Q, what’s wrong? You know I’m not going to hurt you. So tell me…?”

“…I did it,” the hacker whispered into his chest, “I’m done.”

He blinked and forced his body to stay relaxed, still running a hand through Q’s hair. “You’re done?”

Q nodded, tightening his own hold on the agent as if he feared that those simple words could suddenly turn all of this into a nightmare.

It could. Any agent with the amount of experience that he and Alec had knew well enough what could happen when a target had outlived their usefulness.

Apparently Q’s innocence didn’t weigh up against his genius. His utter, utter _genius_ , because hadn’t their own computer branch estimated that it would take even the most ingenious of hackers a week to crack that code? And yet this brilliant boffin had done it in less than three days.

“Alright,” he said, continuing his careful petting, “Well done, then. Very well done, Q.”

His little hacker let out a whimper that stirred something deep within him and from the corner of his eyes he could see Alec lean forward with naked desire on his face. That lust only fuelled his own and he swallowed, trying to push it back down. 

“Shh,” he soothed, “you did great, Q. You saved a lot of people. That was our mission. We’re done now – with plenty of time to spare for a change. Thanks to _you_.”

Q just clung to him, hands that had been elegantly racing across a keyboard just a short time ago were now wildly clutching at James’ shirt. His face was buried as closely as physically possible against the agent’s shoulder. 

And James continued petting him, gentler with this young man than he was with anything, trying to reassure without words that for Q those calloused hands - dealers of death - meant only safety and care.

A soft keening noise escaped the slender man’s throat and James let out a shaky breath, closing his eyes in an attempt to summon up all of his willpower to restrain himself.

But then he heard the sound of Alec moving across the room and he knew it was doomed to fail from the start – he knew _exactly_ what kind of look the man would be wearing and it was enough to test James’ self-control even _without_ adding in the slight weight of the brilliant, captivating man against him.

Moments later he heard a startled sound from within the circle of his arms and was unsurprised when he opened his eyes to find Alec right there, kneeling in front of the couch with a large, solid hand pressed against Q’s back. 

“Easy there, _kotyonok_ ,” the other agent said with a rumble in his voice that was just inches away from an animal-like growl, “It’s just me.”

James met his lover’s eyes and found the same burning need there. His own light petting of Q’s soft hair became firmer, more purposeful. He bent down and laid a tender kiss on that wavy hair, breathing in the smell of it. 

“James?” Q asked hoarsely and Alec responded by leaning in closer, so that the hacker was firmly caught between both of them. His partner circled one of his strong arms around the smaller man, settling his hand between Q and James’ chests. The other was placed on Q’s shoulder, pressing him further into James.

“Trust me, Q, ok?” James pleaded, “can you do that for me?” He couldn’t resist any longer and leaned in, guided the other man’s head closer with his hand and claimed those tempting lips with his own. The kiss was more desperate than gentle, despite the fact that he tried to hold back – he couldn’t even tell if it that was his own doing or Q’s. Whatever control he held over the situation was slipping out of his grasp, replaced by surges of utter need.

A need that Alec seemed to share, because when James leaned back, allowing the smaller man to take in gasping breaths, his partner growled and bend forward so that he could kiss the back of Q’s neck. He heard the hacker’s breathing hitch and wondered if it was from lust or fear. He hadn’t forgotten the bruises Alec had left on Q’s neck before.

“Ok, Q?” he asked, “Alec’s not going to hurt you. You’re safe with us, alright?”

“Promise?” the younger man whispered. Those large eyes staring up at him made something inside of him fold and he found himself unable to find a reply for a moment.

“I promise,” Alec answered for both of them, “Not going to hurt you, little kitten. You’re just fine.” The man was gently stroking the hacker’s hips and chest, brushing one of his hands lightly against the smaller man’s crotch, which made Q’s eyes widen and then close as his head fell back against Alec’s shoulder with a deep moan.

This gave James a perfect view of that pale, vulnerable looking throat and he leaned forward, pressing his own mouth against it, covering it in soft kisses. When Q didn’t tense up from having a killer at his throat, he grew bolder, claiming the younger man’s neck with open mouthed kisses and soft bites.

Alec chuckled softly when the trembling form between them started pressing himself closer against the man’s hands. “Ah, so good, little kitten. Do you want a little more, Q?” 

“Alec,” Q sobbed out, sounding like he was on the verge of falling apart and James couldn’t stop himself from hushing him. 

“Shh, you’re doing so great, Q,” he whispered, sliding his hands beneath the hacker’s shirt and lifting it up and off, “Let me help. There we go, Q, that’s so much better, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Alec agreed instantly before pressing a kiss on the smooth skin of the shoulder in front of him. “Look at you, Q. So beautiful.”

“He is, isn’t he?” James said, leaning back a little to unceremoniously take off his own shirt. 

James’s eyes met his partner’s own lust-filled gaze and he tilted his head into the direction of the stairs. A bed would be easier than their current rather awkward position, especially with the three of them.

After a moment of silent communication, Alec easily lifted the pliant man into his arms. Q seemed to almost unconciously settle into the other man's warm hold. While his partner carried their boffin upstairs, James breathed out and stood up stiffly to gather some rather essential items. He had zero intention of hurting Q, after all. With just him and Alec they would have been able to go without lube with a bit of patience and improvisation if the situation called for it. Q, though, well he was a lot more breakable than either of them and he doubted that the younger man enjoyed it rough like James sometimes wanted from Alec – especially after a mission gone wrong. 

This was their first time with Q and all they knew of his preferences so far was from their own observations – which had told him over the past few days that yes, Q was attracted to both of them, but also shy and likely not very experienced with sex. Or sex with men. Either way, condoms and lube were definite requirements here. He found those in Alec’s bag, feeling entirely unsurprised that the man had packed them, and with a fond smile he followed them upstairs.

Entering the bedroom he saw that the other agent had set the smaller man down on the bed and was now leisurely undressing himself, holding Q captive with his eyes.

James trailed admiring eyes over his occasional lover for a long moment before he turned back to look at Q. And frowned a little at what he saw, because their hacker was starting to look hesitant again.

Now that neither of them was touching the younger man, it seemed that their boffin’s brilliant mind was racing in the wrong direction. He could practically _see_ the doubt and worry sink back into that slight form - looking all the more vulnerable without his shirt. 

A few quick strides had him sitting next to Q on the bed, where dark, almost bewildered eyes stared up at him. James smiled softly and leaned in, sliding one of his hands gently along the back of Q’s head – fingers trailing into that untamed mop of hair. 

“James?” Q whispered his name as if it meant so many other things - as if he was looking for reassurance or advice on what to do and for a moment Bond wondered if their hacker was still undecided on whether or not he needed to bolt. 

Well, he could answer that question rather decisively. “I’ve got you, Q. Don’t worry.” 

“I- you, James, I don’t know _what_ -”

“Shh,” he pressed lightly against the back of Q’s head, coaxing him to come closer, “come here, Q.”

With a soft, indecipherable sound, their little hacker gave in – yielding to James’ gentle demands and burrowing into the agent’s warmth. Dark, wild hair brushed against his bare chest. One soft, unmarred hand held onto his arm as if James was an anchor in a storm. 

“Good job, Q,” he whispered, having noticed how beautifully the younger man responded to a gentle praise. The little broken-sounding noise he got in return was nearly enough to make him lose any control he still had over his own desires.

His partner apparently felt the same - with a growled out curse in Russian, Alec climbed onto the bed, crawling straight towards them, the mattress inclining with the man’s movements. The other agent was unabashedly naked, showing a glorious expanse of strong muscles and scars. He was the only person Bond always returned to – be it as a lover or a friend. The only one he trusted completely, because while he knew that Alec was loyal to England just as he was, his friend was loyal to _James_ above all. 

He watched the approach with admiring eyes and released Q’s head when the wavy-haired man twisted in his hold to over his shoulder.

The other agent smirked at them both and then reached across Q to put a familiar hand on James’ shoulder and pushed him down with a hard shove. James went down easily, not protesting the action that left Q, who’d been leaning against him, sprawled out over him while the Russian man stared down at them with deep-lidded eyes. Their hacker, caught off guard by the action, let out a startled yelp as he went down. 

Alec was quick to soothe him, that same large hand now settling on Q’s bare back with far more gentleness.

“You’re being so good for us, _kotyonok_ ,” Alec purred out, lightly pressing him down on top of James. When Q acquiesced with a breathy sigh, the other man grinned with pure satisfaction and started running his hands over Q’s back. 

Inevitably, those hands trailed down to Q’s trousers. “Why don’t I take those off for you, yes? I promise you don’t need them.”

But the large hands working to remove their hacker’s trousers seemed to have jolted the slender man into sitting back up a little. James put an arm around the man to keep him in place, restraining their endearing boffin with utter care. “Trust us, Q,” he whispered, “alright?”

“But… he’s. But… Alec?”

“Yes, little hacker?” the man asked him patiently, having stopped his previous actions – hands staying in place on Q’s hips.

“You…” the smaller man whispered, “I… don’t hurt me?”

From his position underneath Q, James could see the man leaning over them soften a little at that. “No, _kotyonok_ ,” Alec assured, “I won’t hurt you.” 

Then the Russian man’ hands re-started their slow exploration and James cupped Q’s head to encourage him to bury his face in his neck again. One of his arms was firmly around the hacker, the other was contently playing with that wonderful hair. This time, when Alec reached for the slender man’s trousers, Q let those skilful hands slide them off, taking off his undergarments as well in one smooth movement. And then there was just that slender, naked body caught between them. Where James was still wearing trousers, Q’s own growing erection was already free of his clothing and pressing down against him.

James groaned and claimed the boffin’s soft mouth for a deep kiss filled with pure want, that left Q panting against his neck. He smiled, rubbing his chin against the dark hair. 

When Q pressed a tentative kiss to his collarbone he unconsciously tightened his hold on the smaller man. “That’s it, Q,” he encouraged, his voice sounding rough even to his own ears – he _wanted_ Q. “That’s _so_ good.” 

The observant part of absently him noted the sound of packaging being opened that he assumed was the lube and he was somewhat aware of Alec’s hands sliding more and more freely over Q’s naked body, touching him all over. His own hand slid down to join his partner’s on that smooth, slender arse. The responses their trailing hands evoked from the younger man captive between them left him helpless in the face of his own desire and he gave restraint up for an impossible task and instead pulled Q closer so that he could finally rub his achingly hard length against the beautifully naked man.

Then Alec, never one for restraint in the first place, removed his hands completely for just a moment before he put a firmer hand down just above James’ own, in that lovely dip just above Q’s arse, and effortlessly pressed the hacker down. The Russian man's other hand slid down lower, and the way that Q twitched and clutched desperately at his shoulder told James that his partner was slowly sliding a finger inside.

Q writhed against James, lavishing his shoulder and neck with needful kisses that devolved into arousing little licks and then, likely in response to his partner’s actions, desperate sucking.

And James - needed to have him. Fuck, he _needed to have him_.

“You’re doing great kotyonok, easy now. Can you take a little more for me?” he heard Alec rumble in a lust-coated voice that made him even harder. Q didn’t manage to form a reply to the other man’s prompting, but whimpered beautifully when Alec added another finger.

Q was well and truly caught between them, soft skin and lanky limbs and nearly slack between them, sounding breathy moans against James skin while Alec coaxed him open, inch by inch.

“Beautiful. Oh god, _look at him_ Alec,” he groaned out.

“Yes,” his partner agreed, the heated darkness in his eyes at war with the careful way he was preparing Q.

James groaned again and, regretfully, pushed Q up, away from his body. Thankfully his partner could read him well enough that they didn’t need words and the other man used his free hand to lift the smaller man up. There was enough room now so that the agent could take off his own trousers. He sighed in relief when he was finally free of them, his hard length released from the confining fabric.

“Better?” Alec asked sardonically, with that devilish smirk on his face that could drive half of MI6 to despair. James didn't reply, just hooked one arm back around Q and used the other hand to tease his partner’s length with a quick, careful squeeze.

The other agent just let out a guttural laugh and pushed Q back down again on James. Feeling that smooth slender body against his own bare skin was a revelation all on its own and he pushed up against the smaller man caught between them, face twisting into a satisfied grin when that drew a moaned out plea of his name from Q.

“C’m here, Q,” he encouraged in a rough voice, hands guiding that mop of dark hair downwards. Q went willingly, slender hands sliding over his muscles while those soft lips mouthed against his skin.

When Q made needy little noises and practically nuzzled his face against James’ aching cock, he let his head fall back with a loud groan.

Alec’s deep voice wrapped around him, “Ah, you’re making him feel so good, little kitten. You hear those sounds he’s making? That’s beautiful, Q.”

The sounds coming from Q were arguably more arousing than whatever James let slip himself, he was sure, but the encouragement spurred Q on to take him inside of that warm mouth, so he could hardly find it in himself to protest.

There was nothing skilled, exactly, about the way Q was sucking him, because that would mean it was purposeful or controlled. But _this_ \- this wasn’t in any way like the proficient teasing or experienced actions that Bond was used to from the women, and occasional man, he met on his missions. It was entirely different than Alec’s more forceful teasing way of it too.

No, Q was completely lost in him, liking, sucking, drinking him in with unrestrained, absolute _need_. 

Desperate hands clung to his tights and that wonderful mouth kept up a merciless assault to the remains of James’ self-control, never letting up for a moment, as if Q couldn’t bear to tear himself away from his cock.

He tried to keep his hand on Q’s hair gentle but despite how much the double-oh prided himself on being in control of his body he couldn’t for the life of him be certain that he didn’t exert just a little too much force when a wave of pleasure swept through him that left him nearly delirious - and he _pulled_ that warm mouth closer, pushing himself deeper into Q’s throat.

“Good, just like that. Yes, Q. You’re doing so great. So good,” he kept up a litany of praise and encouragement, barely conscious of what he was saying anymore. It must’ve been fine, though, because Q was still holding on to his body, letting out sweet hums and moans around his cock.

Then Q made a deep muffled sound and tightened his grip and Alec started cursing in Russian. James recognized it as the good kind of cursing, though and would have known exactly what that meant even if Q _hadn’t_ reacted to the other man slowly sliding into him.

“That’s it Q,” he heard Alec growl out, “Right there – that’s so fucking good. Fuck. I’ve wanted you since you fucking stared me down with _my own fucking gun_.” His partner sounded savage as he filled Q, but from the fact that their boffin was also making the good kind of sounds, James wasn’t too worried about the other man hurting him. Alec could do rough sex like the best of them, he could attest to from experience, but the other agent was fully aware of his own strength and also perfectly capable of holding back.

So he let it go – trusted in Alec as he always did and just let himself _have_ this. 

He could feel the motion of his friend thrusting into the slender man, heard the moans from Q turn into needy keening sounds and felt those fingers clutching at his thighs grow even more desperate. That soft body, caught between the both of them, was a beautiful whimpering, trembling _mess_. Was this really the same person as the scared but determined man who’d taken Alec down in James' defence? Or the utterly focussed but endearing hacker who managed to do what all of Q-branch couldn’t?

Right now, though, Q was soft yielding warmth surrendering to the both of them and James for the life of him couldn’t remember when he had wanted anyone quite this badly. Probably Alec, the thought came a few moments later, his mind hazy through the waves of pleasure.

And he _knew_ that for him it never lasted – whenever he was determined to have something, to keep someone he always lost them in the end, Alec being the only exception. But that didn’t make him any less determined to stake his claim, to take hold and never let go. If anything, it made him _more_ determined. His fingers caught in dark, sweaty hair and he pushed just a little further into Q. Their dark-haired lover moved with him, taking in as much of James as he could and that was _it_ \- he came desperately inside of that eager mouth, feeling like he was coming apart a little at the seams. 

Body languid and sated, James relaxed his hands that had tightened during his climax and replaced his previously strong grip on the slender hacker with leisurely trailing fingers.

Without James’ cock in his mouth, Q regained some of his capability of speech, letting out broken renditions of Alec’s name against his thigh. After making eye contact with his partner, he timed the moment just right to drag their boffin’s smaller body up to lay against him. Grasping hands settled on his shoulders and the boffin buried his face against his collarbone. “Please,” the younger man begged and James soothed him with careful, reassuring touches and words.

Dark hair brushed James’ chin with his two lovers’ movements and soft lips mouthed against his skin with every sobbing whimper Q let out as Alec filled him up.

“He’s perfect, James. Fucking _perfect_.” From anyone else, those words would likely have come out as reverent, but Alec just sounded darkly satisfied. It was not surprising, coming from the rough agent – his friend was utterly possessive of the few things or people he claimed as his own, so he wasn’t surprised when the man continued in rough mixture of English and Russian professing the younger man as theirs.

He was familiar enough with Alec that he could tell by the other man’s breathing rhythm just how close Alec was to coming, so he slipped a hand down to stroke Q, coaxing him over the edge just as his partner spent himself inside of their boffin, staying there for several long breaths before sliding out.

They lay still, all three of them, a tangle of tired bodies and heavy breathing. Moments passed in a comfortable, warm haze where Q was a limp weight against him and a part of him wanted to fall asleep right as he was. He knew the stickiness between them would only grow more uncomfortable, though, so eventually, he shifted the boneless form of their hacker over to Alec and left the bed in search of a washcloth.

He quickly wiped the cloth over himself, rinsed it out and walked back to the bed, running the washcloth tenderly over Q’s soft, loose body.

Tired, content eyes blinked up at him, far too trusting and he smiled back, passed the washcloth on to Alec and lifted the lithe man up from the bed and into his arms.

His partner was quick in replacing the bedding and cleaning himself up. Only moments later, Q was back between them in bed, their shared body heat making the need for any clothing entirely unnecessary.

Q breathed out heavily and snuggled against his partner.

“That’s right, little kitten, you’re _ours_ ,” Alec told the pliant weight on his chest with a deep satisfaction. “If you think you’re going anywhere after this, you’re very much mistaken. Doesn’t matter where you run, little hacker… we’ll find you.”

James groaned - trust Alec to sound like a bloody psychotic bastard to their already generally skittish lover. He thought his partner agreed that their hacker needed a gentler hand than was usual for either of them.

Of course, his partner _was_ a bastard – and unrepentantly honest, especially after a good round of sex. Why had he even expected anything different?

“Don’t scare him off now, Alec.” James scolded lightly and turned his attention to Q. He soothingly stroked the utterly relaxed form cuddled between them. “Don’t mind him, he gets sappy after sex. Though _his_ version of sappy is anyone else’s version of deranged. He’s not actually a psychopath, though. No-one is hunting anyone down.”

Q didn’t seem to mind, letting out an agreeable hum and rubbing his face against Alec’s chest like an actual cat. His partner huffed out a short laugh, a possessive hand trailing over the smooth skin so trustingly exposed to him.

“I don’t care what you tell him, James,” the man informed him in Russian, “I’m not letting this one get away. We are damn well keeping him.”

James shook his head, because Alec was incorrigible.

He also didn’t argue - which, between the two of them, was much the same as an agreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I gave up and finally posted this, because it's not going to get any better. At least I learned from this attempt that writing sex scenes is just as hard as writing fighting scenes. And entirely more awkward. Also, three is most definitely a crowd to begin with - how do you even keep track of and clearly describe where all the body parts are... which sounds ridiculous and why do I even?
> 
> Gaah, this was even harder than a fight scene.
> 
> Anyway, that was that - it took forever before I dared post it, but at least I didn't chicken out completely and can now mark this thing as finished. And move on with my life to other stories. So there is that.
> 
> Let's just never talk about this moment of my life ever again.


End file.
